A Real Life Sorta Hero
by OctaviaWithStarsForEyes
Summary: "Elsabeth," she said regarding him with an intense gaze, "but you can call me Elsie. I've always thought if I had any friends they'd call me that." / "The realest people don't have a lot of friends," -Tupac Shakur


"Right, there are four different events planned for today," Bruce announced over breakfast, "and each of us will be at a different one to represent Wayne Enterprises and the Wayne foundation."

His sons groaned in unison, except for Tim who buried his head in his arms, muttering about how 'it was all just a dream'.

Bruce regarded them all with a disapproving look, and Dick sighed, knowing his father needed his help.

"What are we doing today then?" He mustered a grin and a cheerful tone. No one was fooled, but Bruce flashed him a grateful look.

"Damian, you and I will be at a charity lunch for children with learning disorders," He said.

"Why should I? Grayson would be much better at dealing with the little... rascals." Damian sneered, making Jason and Tim snicker.

"Did you really just say rascals?" Tim asked.

"More importantly, how many times have we said that about you, Demon Brat?" Jason grinned.

This caused Tim to laugh uproariously and Dick to facepalm.

"Look, if you all were nicer to Little D, maybe he'd like you better!" Dick protested.

"Not likely. I don't consort with buffoons, and besides, these two cretins couldn't be nice if they tried." Damian fired back.

"Ouch, that really hurt," Jason clutched a hand to his chest, feigning offence.

"Yeah, Demon, maybe if you were nicer we wouldn't have to be this way," Tim nodded.

"As I was SAYING-," Bruce tried desperately, but his sons broke into a loud argument over the usefulness of being nice and started shouting over each other.

"Guys, c'mon, is this really-,"

"You little fucker!"

"You see, Todd? You and Drake could if you wanted to."

"Oh bite me, you absolute-,"

"-Tim is on press conference duty!"

"Guys-,"

"My PERFECTLY GOOD SUNDAY with your-,"

"-cannot believe any of you-,"

"Shut UP-,"

"Oh like you can talk, you hypocrite!"

"Jason will be interviewing new recruits for his street kid campaign-!"

Needless to say, when Alfred walked in with a fresh pot of coffee, he was momentarily confused. Tim, Jason, and Damian were wrestling across the table, Jason had a switchblade, Tim had a pair of brass knuckles, and Damian had his katana. Poor Bruce had given up trying to tell them what they were doing and was rubbing his temples while Dick looked torn between comforting his father, separating his brothers, and going back to bed. When he saw the faithful butler appear in the door way, he smiled in relief.

"Oh thank god, Alfie! You have the best timing!" He praised over his brothers' squabbling.

Sighing, Alfred put down the pot on the table and retrieved a whistle from his pocket.

A piercing shriek filled the silence making everyone freeze and five pairs of eyes flicked to the butler, who was blowing an earsplitting note into a shiny piece of metal.

"Masters, please," was all he said, and everyone began settling back into their seats, calmly stowing away their weapons.

"Where did you even get a whistle, Alf?" Jason asked, puncturing the silence.

"I believe it was a 'gag gift' from you, Master Jason. In case I had to 'settle you all down'," Alfred quoted, raising an eyebrow.

The five males exchanged a glance, and Bruce cleared his throat. "Now, Damian and I will be attending a charity lunch,"

Damian opened his mouth to show exactly what he thought of that, when Dick cut in.

"Because of course, he's the rightful heir and naturally the one who should be with Bruce representing the House of Wayne," Dick nodded like it was obvious, giving his brothers a signal to nod along with him. Tim and Jason went along with it at the subtle BatGlare they received from Dick.

"Very well," Damian agreed, looking mollified. Bruce looked like he was going to cry in relief and sent Dick another grateful look.

"Tim will be representing Wayne Tech during a press conference, Jason will be interviewing new recruits for his street children help campaign, and Dick will be paying a visit to the orphanage with Barbara Gordon, Wally West, and Roy Harper," Bruce finished, thanking god he wasn't interrupted.

All the boys seemed okay with that and Dick stood up. "Well, sounds like we're good to go. Ready team? Break!"

No one moved.

"Oh good, I thought one of you might actually move or something," Tim snorted a laugh.

"Not at that pathetic command," Damian rolled his eyes.

Jason grinned, "Ha, and Dickhead thought we actually might do it too."

"I haven't finished my breakfast," Bruce defended.

Even Alfred was giving Dick a pitying glance and the man threw his hands up.

"What's a guy gotta do to get a little respect around here?" He muttered moodily to himself, stalking off.

...

Dick waited in the parking lot impatiently, tapping his foot and checking his phone.

"Guess who?" Said a voice from behind him and hands appeared to cover his eyes.

"Hm, considering you're the only girl on this little adventure, I'm going to have to guess Babs." He grinned. "How'd I do?"

The hands disappeared and his friend sashayed around him so he could see her. "Bingo, bango, bongo, Dick! We have a winner!"

"Great to see you, Babs," he said, stepping in to hug her.

"Am I interrupting something?" Another voice asked smugly, and Dick turned to face Wally West, wearing his best shit-eating grin.

"Hey, Walls! What's up, man?" He asked, highfiving his friend and giving a little shoulder bump. Their little handshake for what had been forever.

"Not much, things have been great!" Wally nodded, before looking around, "Where's Roy?"

"That remains to be seen," Dick frowned, gaze sweeping the parking lot.

Just then, a shiny black jaguar screeched messily into a parking spot with no finesse and out hopped Oliver Queen's ward himself.

"What's up, losers!" The man greeted cheerfully, or as cheerfully as Roy ever got.

"You can always tell when he's got some the night before," Wally whispered to Babs, "because of that ridiculous swagger he has. Also the awkward sex cowlick he gets."

Indeed, Roy's hair was displaying a little swath of hair sticking up in the back. Babs snickered, and Roy looked at her in confusion.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," she assured him.

Dick laughed at his friends, glad to see them all again.

"Hurry it along, you all. We're already late." Dick said, shooing them forward and the four of them headed across the lot, exchanging witty banter.

They stopped outside the front door and Dick turned to his friends.

"Best behaviour with the kids, alright? No swearing, discussing alcohol, sex, etcetera." He gave Roy a pointed look, and the man shrugged.

With that, they entered the building.

"Hi, I'm Richard Grayson from the Wayne Foundation with my friends, here to see the kiddos?" Dick said, flashing a charming smile to the young woman working the front desk.

("Kiddos?" Roy muttered, but Babs, bless her, elbowed him and he fell silent.)

The blonde blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Of course, right down the hallway, on your first right. I could walk you all if you like?"

Dick hated to see the hopeful, giddy light in her eyes, as he knew he'd have to crush it.

"Ah, no thanks. I think I'm good," he said, and her face fell, "but uh, what was your name?"

She perked back up, "Annie. Annie Mathers."

"Nice to meet you, Annie. I'll see you around, I hope." He said with a flirty wink. She blushed again and giggled nervously.

"Yeah, me too." She sighed wistfully as he walked away.

"Smooth, Dickhead. Very smooth." Roy grumbled and he rolled his eyes.

"Language," was all he said.

Dick always ended up in these situations, people being hopelessly enamoured with the side of himself presented to the public (mainly his right side, it was his better one), and developing a sort of tabloid crush on him, just based on that.

And he, being a caring soul, didn't have the heart to let them down and ended up roped into awkward dates or empty promises.

He reached the door and stepped inside, dashing all of his thoughts so he could enjoy being around the children.

Around forty pairs of eyes lifted to his face and he grinned at them all.

"Hi, I'm Dick Grayson and these are my friends, Roy Harper, Wally West, and Barbara Gordon. It's great to meet you all!" He enthused brightly.

They were immediately swarmed by kids, dimpling up at them with bright eyes and wide smiles, begging to be read to, played with, talked to.

Dick grinned as six of the girls stole Babs away so they could braid her long red hair. Roy sat down with a couple of the boys and discussed things like cars, motorcycles, extreme sports, that kind of thing. Wally was immediately dubbed the story time guy and was handed a stack of assorted children's books.

Dick found himself just watching, as his friends were swarmed, and he looked up to find a pair of eerie eyes staring back at him. A girl, about seven or eight was sitting in the corner. She had ash blonde hair braided into two pigtails, and a mismatched gaze, with one brown eye and one blue eye. She sat away from the other kids, holding onto a blue stuffed bear and just watched silently.

"Hey there," he said softly, sinking to the ground. "What's your name?"

"Elsabeth," she said regarding him with an intense gaze, "but you can call me Elsie. I've always thought if I had any friends they'd call me that."

Dick resisted raising his eyebrows at her blunt musings, and just smiled. "Nice to meet you, Elsie. How are you doing today?"

"Not so good," she said solemnly. "Apparently, I haven't got any parents. Which seems slightly disturbing if you ask me."

She said all this almost like he wasn't there and his mouth went dry.

"I'm sorry. I know how that feels." He said, patting her knee.

"They jumped off a high place," she informed him and his heart clenched tightly. That hit close to home.

"I don't-,"

"People always ask. I just thought you were like them." She cocked her head, and studied him. "But you're not, are you?"

This little eight year old girl was psychoanalysing him now, it seemed. Clearly there was something different about her, she was mature beyond her years.

"Well, I like to think I'm one of a kind," Dick said, smiling nervously.

"No, you're not like them at all," she mused.

"Why do you say that, Elsie?" He asked, genuinely wondering.

She reached up to touch his face and he let her, curious as to where this was going.

"You smile a lot, that's why you have lines here," tiny cold fingertips made their way around the gentle curve of his laugh lines.

"But you also worry a lot, and that's why you have these lines." She traced his forehead and then looked back at him sympathetically, "don't feel bad, most adults do."

"And you cry sometimes, don't you? That's where these lines come from." Elsie found his brow, and the corners of his eyes, and his mouth. "You cry more than people think you do, probably at night, considering these," she said, looking at the hollows beneath his eyes. "Nightmares?"

"Yes," he breathed, staring at her in fascination. "How-?"

"Me too." She nodded kindly, and when he looked at her, he realised she was telling the truth. She had some of the same lines in her young face, the tear lines and the worry lines, as well as dark circles under her eyes. But not the smile lines.

And in that moment, Dick Grayson's heart broke a little for this tiny fragile girl.

"Elsie?" He probed softly and she looked at him.

"Yes?"

"You don't have a lot of friends?" He questioned gently and she nodded, like it was a fact she'd accepted.

"The other children don't like me. They think I'm strange," she admitted to him.

"Well I'll be your friend," he promised, "and I will visit all the time."

Elsie blinked once, and then her delicate features lit up with a smile.

There we go, Dick thought, smiling.

"Do you swear?" She asked, gripping his face in between her ice cold hands.

"I swear." He said, and she let go.

"Pinky swear?" She held out her pinky, and he hooked it with his own.

"Pinky swear." Dick said and Elsie nodded, satisfied.

"Okay. Are you going to stay?"

Dick smiled, "Yeah, for a little bit. Would you like to do something with me?"

"Will you read me something?" She blinked up at him with her strange eyes.

"Of course,"

Elsie handed him a letter from inside her pocket, "Tell me what it says. The nurses don't know Dutch."

Dick looked at her. "What makes you think I do?"

"Do you?"

"...Yes," He admitted. "Do you?"

"Yes, but I can't read it. If you read it out loud I can understand." She said.

Dick smiled at her and she ducked her head slightly.

Smiling a bit, Elsie climbed into his lap and leaned against him. She was so small, so delicate, he felt if he didn't protect her, she would break. Hugging her close to him, he read it aloud.

"Voor wie het aangaat,

Haar naam is Elsie en zij is de mooiste baby ter wereld. Zorg voor haar goed. We wensen dat we haar zelf zouden kunnen opwekken, maar dit is niet langer een wereld waar we een deel van zouden kunnen zijn. Zorg ervoor dat ze veilig is. We houden zoveel van haar," He read in an increasingly shaking voice. "Elsie, what is this?"

She had been still the whole time, but now she looked up at him with glassy eyes.

"It's the note my parents left with me. When they left me outside my aunt's house. She gave me to the orphanage. They found my parents' bodies three days later." Elsie whispered in a trembling voice, "they jumped off a high place."

Dick said nothing, only wrapped his arms around the girl's tiny frame, and hugged her close.

"My parents jumped off a high place too. I'm very sorry for your loss." He said softly into her ear. She hugged him back silently and he felt his shoulder becoming wet. Elsie was crying.

Dick just rubbed her back, wishing the world wasn't such a cruel place, because people only learn to cry quietly when they are hurting the most.

She recovered quickly, and when she was only hiccuping softly, he drew back from the embrace.

"You are a very strong girl, Elsie. I'm very proud of you," he said to her. "Why don't we do something else. Would you like to draw?"

She nodded, wiping away her tears.

And so the spent the rest of the time drawing pictures. Elsie came out of it with a drawing he made of three little cats, and Dick came out with a crayon drawing, done by his request.

"Do you like superheroes?" She'd asked while he'd been working on the cat drawing.

"Yeah, they're super cool," he grinned.

"I think so too. I'll draw you the Batman," she decided.

"Is he your favourite superhero?" Dick asked, smiling sideways at her.

Elsie looked up from her page, "No silly. That's you."

Which had promptly shut Dick up because yes, he was a superhero, but no one had ever called him a hero when he was in civvies. A manwhore, yes, gypsy trash, yes, brother, son, friend, yes. But never a hero.

"Why are you drawing the Batman then?" He asked, recovering from his shock.

"It's really silly to have a portrait of yourself, you already know what you look like," Elsie giggled a bit, "plus capes are a lot more fun to draw. If you were wearing a cape I'd draw you."

"I promise to wear a cape next time then, when I visit you again." He laughed. "But why the Batman specifically?"

"Well he protects Gotham. And he's pretty cool. Also I like the way he looks," she imitated the BatGlare as best she could, scrunching up her little features, tightening her mouth, and lowering her eyebrows over her squinty eyes.

Which obviously caused Dick to break down laughing and he snapped a quick picture to show Bruce later.

Elsie broke character to laugh with him and begged to see the picture.

"What do you think of your face?" He asked, as she stared down at the phone screen.

" _My_ face? Oh, my mistake, I thought that was the Batman." She said deadpan, and they both doubled over with peals of giggles at that.

"Well, I finished the drawing." Dick said after a bit, holding up the three cats.

"Me too." Elsie nodded displaying the Dark Knight pulling his iconic brooding face.

"I love it," he nodded with a grin. "If I ever run into the Batman, I'll show it to him."

Elsie blushed a little and nodded.

Just then the attendant in charge of the children announced that the adults had to go, and Dick stood up.

"It was great to meet you Elsie. I'll be back here in a couple days. How does Thursday sound?" He asked and she nodded.

"Goodbye, Mr. Grayson." She said, suddenly shy.

"Call me Dick, Elsie." He knelt down for a quick hug, and then left with his friends.

"How'd it go, then?" He asked his friends as they walked out of the building.

They all made noises of positivity, even Roy. Babs was sporting an elaborate series of braids within braids, Wally had his hair gathered into desperate attempts at pigtails, and Roy had paint all over his fingers.

Dick smiled.

...

Epilogue

"Hey, Bruce! One thing!" Nightwing called as Bruce pulled on his cowl.

"Yes, Dick?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I made a friend at the orphanage and she drew me a picture, would you like to see it?" He asked, hand secured around his phone so he could get a picture for Elsie.

"Sure," Batman said, and Nightwing handed it to him.

Several emotion flashed across his father's face behind the cowl, and he looked up from the paper after a few seconds, holding it up for Nightwing to see.

"I don't look like that," Batman scowled, unconsciously matching the grumpy expression pictured in crayon. Nightwing snapped a picture.

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 **Letter translates to: To whom it may concern,**

 **Her name is Elsie and she's the most beautiful baby in the world. Take good care of her. We wish we could've raised her ourselves, but this is no longer a world we could be a part of. Please make sure she's safe. We love her so much.**

 **Please review!**


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